Lost
by Oleander-Tea
Summary: Akane Tendo is an overworked psychiatrist for Yamamoto Corp. Ranma Saotome is her semi mute patient. This is their story. AU, comments and criticism not only welcome, but needed. NOTE: Change in ratings.
1. Lessons on Communication

**A/N**: well, here's a new story that I really hope I finish. I haven't read anything like this in Ranma-verse yet, but I got the idea from the book _Dance of Knives_, though the plot is nothing like that of the book. I hope you guys like it. I had a lot of fun writing this chapter.

**Disclaimer:** I own none of the characters that you recognize.

* * *

And I'd give up forever to touch you  
Cause I know that you feel me somehow  
You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be  
And I don't want to go home right now

And all I can taste is this moment  
And all I can breathe is your life  
Cause sooner or later it's over  
I just don't want to miss you tonight

And I don't want the world to see me  
Cause I don't think that they'd understand  
When everything's made to be broken  
I just want you to know who I am

And you can't fight the tears that ain't coming  
Or the moment of truth in your lies  
When everything seems like the movies  
Yeah you bleed just to know your alive

And I don't want the world to see me  
Cause I don't think that they'd understand  
When everything's made to be broken  
I just want you to know who I am

--Goo Goo Dols- _Iris

* * *

_

**Lost**

_Click, click, click_, said Akane Tendo's kitten heels as she expertly maneuvered her way through the Tokyo subway. The gentle sounds made by her shoes were drowned out by the rest of Japan getting ready for work on a Monday morning. As the young woman quietly slipped into the train, there really should not have been such the hustle as men of all ages turned her direction. At twenty-four, Akane Tendo looked the image of just another citizen. Dressing to avoid attention, she wore a simple cotton top and khakis. Akane's line of work didn't have dress codes, but she liked to remain professional. Her dark blue hair was cropped short about her chin making for quitea nice frame for her delicate heart shaped face, two honey bronze eyes void of make up. Akane Tendo, though not beautiful, was exotic.

As the announcer warned passengers away from the closing doors, Akane reached into her Louise Vuitton purse for a book. Though he made no sound at all, Akane was well aware of the pigtailed man sitting across from her watching her. Ranma Saotome, he was. Dressed in his signature red Chinese silk shirt and black pants, Ranma stood out in a train of modernly dressed Japanese people. His boyish good looks mussed with roughness and those beautiful blue-grey eyes didn't help the process.In the six months that he had been riding this train (sitting across from Akane), not a single passenger has ever heard a sound from his lips. All was well, as neither Akane nor Ranma wanted more attention than they've already received.

Starting her new book _Modern Psychology_, Akane's mind was engulfed by theories and ideas, most of which she disagreed with, but some made sense. It was her daily ritual to prepare her mind each morning, as her patients weren't the usual _I-didn't-realize-how-good-I-had-it_ type, but the _Some-idiot-tortured-me-so-now-I'm-all-screwed-up_ type. Andpartly for that reason,Akane rarely had more than two patients at a time because of the grueling work involved in "fixing" them. At this time, she had only one patient: Ranma Saotome.

The subway jerked to a stop and people shuffled about. Akane barely noted the change, nose still buried in her book. Ranma kept his eyes glued to the girl in front of him, making sure she didn't leave or disappear, though she had always gone back to him in the past. As the train started moving again, he called down a bit; Akane wasn't stupid enough to jump out ofa moving train. As long as the train was in motion, Akane would stay right where she was.

Ranma's mind wandered, as it did most mornings, to the last time Akane had left. Though his long-term time perception was rather poor, he knew that it had happened before he moved in with her. Akane had told him that she was going on vacation to see an old friend, Shinosuke. She was to be gone for one week. Because Ranma had no clue how long one week was, she had shown him on the calendar.

"Here Ranma," she had said. "Every night when it gets dark, you can mark off _one_ square, starting with this one."

Akane then picked up a black Sharpie and demonstrating her instructions, drew a big X over the box. Turning to Ranma again, she studied his features. He hadn't seemed confused, but he never gave a sign that he understood.

"When you cross off this box," Akane pointed, "it means that I'll be home when you wake up."

On the day next to it, she wrote "Akane's back!"

Ranma looked at the calendar curiously and nodded. Akane had given him a bright smile and squeezed his hand telling him how much she would miss him. Then she had left.

The day after, Ranma had gone to Akane's office and upon discovering her absence, threw a fit. It took a tranquilizer dart to calm him down and put him in solitary confinement for a day.

Ranma shuddered at the memory. It was the worst day of his life after he left Hito's service. He was in a small room alone with only a toilet, water fountain, and a bed. The walls were white and there was no window. The only human contact he had was when meals were delivered, and they were all by strangers. None of them had talked to him. When Ranmawas finally released, the guard had reminded him that Akane was gone with Shinosuke in the forest to the north.

Wrong move on the guard's part.

It had taken Ranma twenty-eight hours, without sleep, to find Akane.

He could still hear her startled words burn with anger when he had burst open to the door and found her with Shinosuke, laughing.

"Ranma?" she had stood up and taken a step toward him. "What are you doing here? How did you even find here?"

Ranma didn't move, but just stood there panting slightly as twenty-eight hours of nonstop activity without food began to catch up with him. He didn't say a word; he rarely ever said anything, and he wasn't about to in front of a perfect stranger.

"I'm on vacation!" Akane had yelled then. "I haven't had a break since I _graduated_, Ranma, and I'm _tired_. I need time to just be _alive_ and not surrounded by... by crazy people who can't even..._UGH_!"

She pushed past the stunned man into the welcoming night. Ranma had stood therewaiting for her return as Shinosuke left to find her. He had stood in the same spot for three more hours and when Akane finally returned, he had, without a word, slumped down in slumber right away as she caught him in her arms. The next morning Akane made a deal with him: she would stay in the forest for one more day and he could stay with her. Ranma hadn't argued.

Clearing his thoughts, Ranma willed the memories away. He didn't know why he had hunted her down like a mad man, but he remembered the urgency in which he needed to know that she was still around. Akane couldn't leave. For a long time, Ranma wasn't sure how long, she had chased away his fears and nightmares, and Ranma just couldn't let her leave like that. He didn't even know what vacation was.

The train stopped again and Akane instinctively stood up. This was their stop. Putting her book away, the young psychiatrist didn't need to look to know that Ranma was right behind her, as he always was. The two walked out of the open door in silence and up the stairs that lead out of the subway tunnel. Outside, the sun shone brightly lending its light. The streets, as always, were crowded with millions of people hurrying to work, getting back from work, and on errand for work.

Akane led Ranma through a maze of streets and stopped in front of an inconspicuous building with black tinted windows. Towards the top of its hundred and fifty floors, the building proudly bore the title _Yamamoto Corp._ For the billionth time since accepting her job offer there, Akane wondered why she picked this place.

Actually, she remembered the winning conversation from two years ago quite well...

"Akane-chan, the boss said that he'd take you!" a bouncy purpled haired woman announced happily from the other end of the phone line.

It was a rather quiet Saturday afternoon and Akane was taking a relaxing bath. She had graduated from the University of Tokyo exactly a month ago and she still didn't have a proper job. Sure, she had a source of income from working as a waitress at a restaurant called Ucchan's, but she wanted something more. There was a reason she went to college in the first place, and it wasn't so that she could spend the rest of her life as a waitress, no matter how much she loved her boss.

"Really?" Akane was surprised at the news. "But didn't you say that they're trying to get rid of the program? Why-"

Shampoo interrupted then, "Nah, they changed their minds. So you'll come work here, no? We'll be in the same building and everything! This is great."

A pause, then, "Uh, Shampoo? I got an offer from another place that's _much_ safer than-"

"Don't worry about safety," the other girl said confidently. She had a bad habit of interrupting people too, "You won't need to go on missions and in the psych ward there arelots of guards around. You'll be perfectly safe."

"But..."

"You'll be with me," Shampoo pleaded. "And besides, this is for a far better cause. The people you'll treat are basically slaves to their old bosses. They need you, Akane-chan."

The girl in questioned sighed, "All right."

"Yay! We'll go out to celebrate tonight..."

Akane shook her head; it was useless. She had a three-year contract and she couldn't quit before then. To be completely honest, she didn't even know if she would quit when the time came to sign a new contract. Yamamoto Corp. wasn't exactly a mental hospital, first off. It was a special missions agency. Most of the people under employment, like Shampoo, were spies and/or special agents. Others were techies or engineers that made the agents and spies' lives easier with better technology and such. Akane, however, was part of a group of twenty-some psychiatrists that helped the victims of the agencies that Yamamoto Corp took down. She knew Shampoo was right in saying that these people needed her help.

Walking through the revolving doors, Akane and Ranma made their ways to the elevator. Inside the building, it was relatively quiet. The employees didn't usually talk muchin the lobby as it often gave easy information to spies from the other side. Passing by security, Akane showed her ID and Ranma's papers. After the guards scanned them, both were admitted across. The three receptionists chatted in whispers and answered phones. The only other sounds heard were the swift movements of cloth and shoes tapping on the floor. The lobby had always made Akane uneasy, and she was glad when they reached the elevator. Finally.

After pressing the four for her own floor, Akane and Ranma edged to the side. People entered until there was no way another person could fit through. The door closed and the elevator shot up. Glad that her floor was closer to the ground, Akane breathed a sigh of relief when the door opened again. It could be said that the girl didn't have an afinity for elevators. She and Ranma were the only ones the leave on the fourth floor.

Stepping into the hall of the Yamamoto Psych Ward, Akane noted the cream colored walls with distaste. Why couldn't they pick a more interesting color? The poor people here are crazy enough as is, they shouldn't have to deal with the company's bad interior design. Having walked the path to her office for over two years, Akane's subconscious mind lead the way as her thoughts drifted elsewhere.

Ranma Saotome. What was she going to do with him? Ranma was her longest patient by far. She received him a few months into her career when Shampoo's team went after Hito's underground smuggling organization. Though she didn't know for sure (or even cared about it that much), Akane was fairly sure that a majority of their business was with drug lords. It had taken Akane the better part of her first year with Ranma to rid him of hid addictions. It was her first major accomplishment with him among few others.

Stopping in front of her door, Akane reached for her keys in her purse and mechanically unlocked and opened the wooden door. Placing her purse on the desk, she sat in her chair behind it. The golden hue of her walls reminded Akane of the minutes before sunset and put her mind temporarily at peace with her problems. She gestured to a coffee brown comfy chair and glanced at Ranma.

"Sit," she said firmly.

Ranma walked to the chair and sat down, back straight. Still used to being ordered around, it was easiest to communicate with him through direct comands. Akane turned to her files on Ranma and frowned. He was still uncomfortable and Akane was beginning to get sick of warming him up to her every morning. What did she need to do make him feel at peace?

"How are you, Ranma?" she asked, putting away the folder.Familiarity worked best, according to her experience in the field.

"Fine."

The answer was succinct and straightforward. Ranma's voice sounded hoarse and unsure with a slight drawl to it. Sometimes the man in his early thirties sounded more like a little boy. Akane looked into his eyes and found that the Ranma looking back at her didn't have any traces of fear or rebellion etched into him. This was a good sign.

"What kind of 'fine'?" This was their daily ritual in Conversation 101. "Good? Bad? Middle?"

"Middle."

Akane had to smile a rueful smile. It had been about nine months since she had finally gotten Ranma to speak with her, but he still had difficulties with it. (Not that she blamed him. As a human weapon for Hito, there couldn't have been much occasions for conversation in the past.) He refused to open his mouth if anyone other than Akane was present. He didn't talk unless Akane directly addressed him with a question. He didn't speak more than a few words at a time. He rarely spoke in complete sentences. He didn't "chat".

"Now what do you say?" she prompted.

"How are you, Akane?" Ranma replied in a practiced manner.

"Fine."

She watched him carefully and mentally smiled as she noted surprise in Ranma's eyes. So he did take these small conversations to heart after all. Normally she told him how she really felt with wordy explanations of why, but this idea had just popped in her head and she had to try it out. Ranma didn't say anything as the surprise faded and Akane gave a small sigh. She had hoped that Ranma would ask her what kind of fine she felt, but apparently he wasn't in the mood to. Oh well. It was worth a shot anyway.

Akane turned to sort through her mail and notes. There were the usual warnings to stay away from certain parts of town at certain times. She took a thumbtack and pinned it to her new board. These were the places that would be under attack and she really needed to stay away. Last time she forgot about that warning... well, long story short, that washow she ended up with Ranma. The last note in the small pile was a reminder for a meeting that Wednesday to discuss the progress of their patients. She turned to her calendar and saw that she had already had the meeting penciled in. Another month had gone by and she still had no progress to report.This was discouraging news...

"What kind of fine?" Ranma whispered softly, eyes on the ground.

Akane smiled brilliantly, "The good kind."

He stole a quick glance at her and turned his attention back on the floor again. Apparently Akane's marble tiles were very interesting specimen.

"Because you're here," she expanded, as she usually did. "I'm great because you wanted to talk to me."

* * *

A/N: There, all finished. How do you like it so far? It's short and it's different from what I usually do, I know, but I wanted to give it a shot. Don't forget to review! You know you want to. I can tell. 


	2. Who Needs Exercise?

First off, let me say one thing. **THANKS FOR THE REVIEWS**! You have no idea how much I appreciated them. I never expected this many, so much thanks. I put this in my profile, but I think I should say it here too. I know next to nothing about psychology, and as far as I'm concerned, psychiatry is even harder to understand. If something here doesn't make sense, it's probably because I really don't know what I'm talking about. Sorry for the inconvenience it could cost, but just go with it for the sake of my sanity. Now for replies-

Vaniah: Thanks! I really haven't thought of Akane's wages, but I think they should be pretty high because shrinks do get paid a lot. Besides, she's working for a rich company. Anyway, I've never The Manchurian Candidate and frankly, I don't even have a clue what it's about (no, I don't live in a cave). If this story reminds you of it, I'll go rent it and watch it. Maybe it'll give me some ideas.

Rubberneck: That's why you read the next chapter, silly. Enjoy!

Ijustcrashed: I read your comment right after I finished the first half of this chapter. I think you'll be pleased.

Teresa3: I read your profile and apparently you're Hispanic. I just finished Spanish 3 and one of my Mexican friends keeps on telling me that my skills are diminishing, so I have to say that I'm pretty excited when I understood a good portion of your profile. Just thought you should know because that totally made my day.

Ace: Thanks for the faith! To be completely honest, I really haven't thought as far as the whole patient/doctor relationship yet. But by my tentative plot line so far, it'll probably work out. And if not, well... We'll see.

Ice Dagger: Okay, I admit. I'm biased towards Shampoo because I'm Chinese myself, but her character is rarely explored. I really do like her though.

Konton: Of course he needs a hug! Poor guy. Even _I_ feel bad for him. But yes, I wonder where this story is going too. ;P

**Disclaimer**: I own none of the characters that you recognize.

* * *

Today we don't know who we are  
Ashamed, hiding behind the scars  
Too many times we let the things we feel  
Get in the way of letting us heal the wounds  
That open in the dark

Did you ever feel sunlight on your face?  
Did you ever taste clouds?  
Did you ever touch space?  
Did you ever feel sunlight on your face?  
Did you ever truly live?

So walk, in time to life's refrain  
Relax, don't do it to yourself again  
Decaying yourself with all the love you won't give  
Killing yourself about the way you don't live now  
'Cause you're not gonna live forever

Did you ever feel sunlight on your face?  
Did you ever taste clouds?  
Did you ever touch space?  
Did you ever feel sunlight on your face?  
Did you ever truly live?  
--Natalie Imbruglia- _Sunlight _(really now, I don't listen to most of her stuff..)

* * *

**Lost:** Chapter Two

-Oleander-Tea-

Ranma coughed. Akane kept on reading the computer screen, typing on her keyboard, and shaking her head. He coughed again, louder this time. Akane glanced at him. Ranma was curled in his chair with a manga in hand. Reading the cover, she noted that it was _Mars_. _Mars_ was Akane's favorite series by far and she had loaned it to him to help him improve his language and communication skills. The man's attention, however, was on the young woman before him. He met Akane's eyes and pointed at her bright sunflower clock on the wall. Following his gesture, Akane looked and found that her old fashioned clock read 8:50. She blinked. Had her report really taken her twenty minutes already? She didn't eve have two paragraphs completely done! Well, she would just have to continue later.

"Okay, okay," she said getting up. "But next time it might help if you said, 'Look, Akane, it's time to go to the gym.' I mean, how do I know you just don't have a cold or something?"

Ranma followed her out of the office wordlessly. She really hadn't expected him to say anything. The past few times she had zoned out and forgotten the time, Ranma had done the same thing. Of course, Akane also reminded him all those times that it would be easier if he had just told her instead of pointing and making noise like a caveman. She wondered if he even knew what cavemen were. It would make for an interesting conversation topic later.

"So you really like the idea of going to the gym, huh?" she asked; Ranma nodded.

It was a rather new development in their routine. It had started after Ranma had moved in with her and she noticed (granted, after a while, a _long_ while) that Ranma would get up an hour early every morning and disappear until her alarm clock rang. It had taken Detective Akane longer to finally follow him out of her apartment building into a small, cramped yard next to it. That morning by the light of dawn, Akane had been mesmerized by Ranma as he went through kata after kata, opposite muscles moving in perfect harmony, tiny beads of sweat barely able to reflect the minimal morning light. The sight was a cold hard negative of the turmoil and strife in Ranma's mind that Akane couldn't get the images of her mind for a few days.

That morning, she had settled into a comfortable nap against the tree trunk and when she woke up again, she was in her own bed smelling of fresh, morning grass and Ranma's sweat.

"You do martial arts in there, don't you?" Akane was talking to Ranma through their mutual understanding that he would not reply. "You know, I grew up in a dojo and in Nerima, I was pretty good. The best, actually. Daddy trained me and then I met Shampoo, she's my best friend, remember?"

Ranma's eyes flickered with faint recognition as Akane smiled. They had been introduced over a year ago and hadn't been together again since. She was glad in knowing Ranma remembered.

"Well, Shampoo moved to Japan when I was sixteen years old and she's _really_ good at martial arts so I begged her train me and stuff," Akane explained with a smile, then a hint of pride. "I'm still no where near as good as her, but I can beat up a considerable amount of people. I wonder who taught you all this stuff. I mean, from what I've seen, I don't think many people can beat you. If any."

She looked at Ranma and saw that he wasn't about to answer her question. From her files, Akane knew that Ranma was sold to Hito at the age of seven. It must have been him who trained Ranma into such a skilled fighter.

"You know," she started talking again, "we've been going to the gym for two months now and I must say, I'm impressed."

Ranma shot her a curious look, but kept silent.

"I was nervous about it at first because I was afraid that you would forget where you were or what you were doing and attack people," she shook her head regretfully. "I'm sorry for thinking that at all, I really am. But you know, it's the most in peace I've ever seen you, Ranma. You really love martial arts, don't you?"

The man nodded and paused in front of the door to the men's locker room. Before Akane could say her usual goodbye, he turned to her and waved his own goodbye. Akane smiled, "Have fun, Ranma. I'll be back for you at 10:30."

For someone with such a horrid sense of the past, present, and future, Akane thought, Ranma sure had an uncanny biological time stamp. He could function by hours and minutes almost perfectly without a clock or watch. If he was told to be out of the locker rooms at 10:30, he most certainly would. Akane had always found it amazing, though biological clocks, circadian rhythms, and photoperiodism weren't unheard of in everyday humans. Then again, Ranma wasn't the person who popped into your head the fasted at the first mention of "everyday human".

Shaking her head, Akane got changed for her defense class and left thoughts of Ranma behind in the hall.

* * *

In the room next to the women's locker room, Ranma slipped into another Chinese shirt and black sweatpants. Akane was right: he did love martial arts. It was the one little piece of constant in his life that had kept him sane. He remembered learning the basics of martial arts when he was very young, before Hito (Ranma gave a small shudder), from a fat man with no hair. He supposed that it was his father. It was really the only memory he had of the old man so far. Whoever it was, he had planted a seed of deep love in Ranma. True, Hito (a bigger shudder this time) had taken part in the majority of Ranma's martial arts training, but he hadn't been able to destroy the love that Ranma harvested for it. Though Ranma never thought of this, it was probably due to that love of the arts that allowed him to survive Hito's brutal training program.

Leaving behind the locker rooms, Ranma walked stealthily through the gym floors. Akane's defense class was running laps around it for warm ups. He waved as Akane rushed past his side with a smile and breathy, "Hey!" He had once stayed to watch them for a bit and after assessing their skills decided that he could beat them all to a messy, squished pulp in three minutes flat. Of course, he never voiced this hypothesis, but he was fairly sure it was accurate. A good martial artist should know his own skills, but also that of his opponents. Ranma, needless to say, was a beyond excellent martial artist.

As he watched Akane sit down for stretches with her friend Shampoo, her words drifted back to him. Now Akane talked a lot to Ranma, but he always paid attention though most of what she said was all extremely irrelevant to him or (in his humble opinion) down right pointless. Even though that was the case, he liked that she was always talking to him and that she didn't seem to care if he talked back. He liked the feel of her voice. Akane's voice always, no matter how angry she was, offered hospitality.

Ranma reached the door to his "dojo" and entered the code to enter. She had said that she almost didn't trust him to not hurt the other people present. He frowned. Didn't she realize by now that he would never hurt her? He couldn't say with certainty for the other people about, but he wouldn't do anything without provocation. Ranma sighed and evened his breath for warm up katas. He was a little miffed that she couldn't even trust him for that, but gave up that train of thought.

He was a weapon after all. He was a trained fighting machine whose sole purpose in life was to kill. He was lucky that she even put up with him that long. Without her...

No. Akane couldn't leave. And if she did, he would _make_ her stay.

All stretched out, Ranma cleared his mind and immersed himself in a kata. Kung fu, this one was.

* * *

"How are things with Ranma?" Shampoo whispered during stretching.

Akane grinned at her little victory from earlier that morning, "Good, actually."

She went through a quick explanation of what had taken place, and as expected, Shampoo gave her a blank stare. Akane almost sighed.

"You've been working too hard," the Chinese girl said resolutely. "Take a break. Go to Singapore..."

"No!" Akane shook her head. "Don't you see? He _wanted_ to talk to me. There's no way I'm leaving now; I am really close to a breakthrough."

Shampoo frowned, "The last few times you said that, well, here you are, living with a crazy man." She then said something in Chinese and jumped up with the rest of the class.

Akane followed and shot her friend an irritated look, "Besides, you remember what happened when I visited Shinosuke? You can't tell me that was a good thing."

An uncertain wave passed by Shampoo's beautiful features before a definite look took over. Akane almost smirked. Shampoo had been passing by when Ranma went ballistic looking for her. There weren't many people who could fairy defeat Shampoo in fair combat and Ranma had knocked her out so easily... The event, Akane knew, unnerved her friend more than she would ever dare to admit.

"Still, you can't plan your life around Ranma."

"I know, I know," Akane sighed as she and Shampoo paired up for a sparring session. "It's just...I don't know. Ranma needs me," she finished lamely, barely dodging an uppercut from her partner. She responded with a low roundhouse kick to Shampoo's shins.

This class was for the highest level of fighters in the company. Most, like Akane, were trained in some sort of dojo and were black belts. Shampoo was easily the best of the class even without her trusty bonboris. It was a tough class to take for these martial arts champions because the fighting style was so different. Their teacher taught them a form of self-defense close to street fighting where there aren't any rules to abide by. Regulations in martial arts tournaments had distinct boundaries of where to fight, strict rules forbidding anyone from grabbing an opponent's limbs, and some even limited attacks to the head and/or groin. However, in a real world fight for your life, those rules didn't apply. Students were allowed, even encouraged, to go for anything that would ensure victories. It had been terribly uncomfortable for Akane, and though she still wasn't particularly used to it, it had become easier.

Besides, there weren't as many rules to remember.

"Well what about you?" Akane countered back. "You haven't taken a break since the last time you visited China. And that was three years ago!"

Shampoo feigned an attack to Akane's knees and as Akane leaned for a block, swept her foot across Akane's legs and gave her shoulders a hard shove. Lucky for Akane, she knew how to fall properly and hit the back of Shampoo's knees from the ground. Shampoo's stance, however, prevented the balance problem and she spoke while Akane got to her feet again.

"But my job doesn't stress me out like yours does. All I have to do is spy for a while and then beat down a few ugly men. It's not hard."

Akane snorted as she aimed a jab-kick-jab combo at Shampoo, "Not hard. Right. That's why you got surgery to take out three bullets from your shoulder. _Every month_! And don't get me started on the rest of your scars..."

Akane was on the offense. Punch, blocked. Kick, dodged. Elbow, blocked again. A quick countering roundhouse punch to the ear from Shampoo and Akane had her chance. Pulling on her arm with one hand and with the other, Akane pushed on her neck to fall. A quick snap kick to the legs and Shampoo's already imbalance body went down. Quickly shoving her arms in front of her, elbows bent, the purple haired ex-Amazon tumbled. Akane growled as Shampoo was gracefully on her feet again.

"Good job, ladies," the instructor commented making his rounds. "Wonderful improvement, Akane."

The dark haired 'lady' beamed, though she noticed a small frown on Shampoo's face. Her pride at her own progress dimmed and was overcome with concern for her friend. It was imperative as the company's number one secret agent that Shampoo's skills elevate. Or at least stay on the same level. However, it was impossible for her to improve when there was no one better to practice with. The Chinese girl was already doing everything she could and Akane could tell that the Shampoo from high school would be able to level the woman today. It was a dilemma in which the solution was still elusive.

* * *

Ranma had been waiting three and a half minutes when Akane emerged form the locker rooms. His sharp senses told him that she had just switched to a citrus shampoo from an old lilac one. It smelled wonderful. Though it was a change from familiarity, there was still the same underlying scent. She smiled at him running a brush in her still damp locks, yanking hard at a knot.

"Hi," she said.

He gave her an acknowledging nod and started on the way back up to the fourth floor. The short trip had been taken in silence, the two parties involved in simply enjoying the other's presence. Instead of heading for Akane's office, they went past it to what seemed to look like a small classroom. There were lengthy tables lining most of the room with chairs behind each row. Twenty people could comfortably be seated in there at once. There were white boards spread across the front and back of the room. The small makeshift classroom lacked a teacher's desk, or even a podium in which the instructor can stand behind.

Akane and Ranma seated themselves at the left end of the second row as more people file in slowly. At 10:45 the entire class had arrived. There were ten people total and Akane stood and walked to the front of the class.

"Hello everyone; as you all know, I'm Miss Tendo. Today we're starting with biology," she said. "Now, who can tell me what our last lesson was over?"

A hand went up. Ranma recognized her as a young woman named Rouge. Akane nodded in her direction with a gentle smile.

"The circulatory system."

"Good. Let's trace the path of blood starting from the right atrium. Where does it go next? Yes, Sanosuke."

"The right ventricle from the tricuspid valves. Or bicuspid?"

"Tricuspid. You'd think it's bicuspid because it's going to the lungs, wouldn't you? But it's not. Good job. So the big question now is how does it get there?"

Sanosuke Sagara. Even Ranma knew what was wrong with him. The man had grown up in a sick experiment believing that he still resided in the Meiji era. He was trained in the arts too, though he didn't do anything with chi. He was new and he needed to be educated for the modern world. Ranma wasn't particularly worried about him though; he was smart, he could do it.

The pigtailed man watched as certain people responded (mostly with the right answers) when Akane called their names. She didn't call on Ranma though. She would quiz him later by giving him a diagram and having him label everything, including the path as well as whether the blood was oxygenated.

Why wasn't it enough to just know that blood was best it can't be seen?

* * *

After her class was over, Akane gave Ranma worksheets over the circulatory system, the heart, and the lungs. As he worked on them, she skimmed through the lesson plan for tomorrow. The digestive system. She quickly wrote out a few vocabulary words and briefly outlined what she was going to say.

Ranma finished his worksheet in thirty minutes and Akane checked over them. Though none were perfect, when she told him the number wrong on each page, he corrected them in no time. It was 12:30 when they finally went down to lunch.

Although he wasn't technically nervous in company of many people at once, Akane noticed that Ranma was more withdrawn. His movements were mechanical and his eyes vacant. When Akane talked to him, he seemed to filter through her words for useful information, whatever that might be. Since she noticed the behavior, they had taken lunch upstairs.

In her office, Akane would turn on the radio to a news station so that they could be kept up to date of important events. After an hour lunch break, Language Arts class began and Akane sat next to Ranma as a colleague read from a book. Even Akane had to admit it was boring and she couldn't blame Ranma when his eyes glazed over and rested his head on his arms. For once, she didn't wake him. Maybe he wasn't the best speaker, but he was still human.

And their afternoon one on one session definitely needed Ranma's cooperation more.

* * *

**A/N**: Okay, I realize that this chapter and the one before it are pretty uneventful, but I needed to develop the characters. Next chapter should be interesting though. I already know what I'm planning and all I'm going to tell you is that Ukyo is involved and you guys get to find out why Akane chose to pursue a career in psychology, because as we all know, she's not much into listening to people.

But the most important thing, if you _really_ want to know, review! I have a hit counter, you know, and I know how many people clicked on this. Even if one out of every twenty actually read the story, I should have more reviews. Don't be afraid to give a negative comment because in all honesty, those are helpful. They help with plots and if written well enough, they help develop writing skills. So click that button and tell me what you think!


	3. Men Are Pigs

I've decided to put all notes and replies at the end so you guys can get to the stories faster. And I just realized we can't post song lyrics on here, so I'm deleteing those...when I get around to it. xP

**Disclaimer**: I own none of the characters that you recognize.

* * *

**Lost:** Chapter Three

-Oleander-Tea-

Akane's therapy room was a small, cozy room connected to her office. The ceiling was painted black and Akane had glued on glow in the dark stars. However, the walls commanded more attention. After scouring every home improvement store in the greater Tokyo area and not finding the right shade of paint or the right wallpaper, the stubborn psychiatrist had sat down with a sales associate and designed her own creation. Tall, dark pine trees decorated the walls. The lower levels even had the occasional fallen tree and ferns of older coniferous forests. The carpet was a deep green and the only sources of light were four tall lamps in each corner of the room.

Along a wall sat an old reddish brown tweed couch. In the couch, Ranma Saotome stared at the ceiling. Beside the couch, Akane sat comfortably in a matching recliner with a clipboard examining the sheet of paper on the top while Ranma listened to an old Hikaru Utada CD.

Even in the dim light, Akane could tell what the messy charcoal drawing held. Most of it contained thin smears that appeared random, however, they had been repeats from earlier drawings. This one didn't seem too much different from Ranma's drawing the Friday before: they both held those cut-like smears, skinny malnourished cats, and strewn limbs. But this one held one thing different; there was a badly drawn circle with dots all over it. For the life of her, Akane couldn't figure out what it was. Filing it away for later analysis, she turned the CD down.

"So, Ranma," she began, "tell me about Hito."

He flinched and closed his eyes. Akane watched the man in front of her as he opened his eyes again. They looked darker and more closed off than before, and she was sure it had nothing to do with the lights. One of his hands clamped on the stress relief ball she provided him with each session and the other balled into a fist.

"Ugly." Ranma said quietly, eyes stuck open. "Violent."

"What happened the first time you met him?" Akane asked in a clear, crisp voice.

"Don't remember."

"What is your first memory of him?"

There was a pause as Ranma sifted through his memories. Akane didn't really expect an answer to this question, and she didn't get one.

"Don't know." Ranma shuddered and visibly tried to regain his composure with even breathing.

Akane got up and Ranma flinched again at the sudden movement.

"Sorry," she said as she sat on the floor leaning against the couch. With her left hand, she slowly relaxed Ranma's empty fist and put her fingers through his. His hand was loose.

"What kind of things did Hito want you to do?" Akane didn't complain when Ranma's hand went rigid and nearly crushed all the bones in her own hand. Maybe it was too soon to mention Hito...

"Fight. Use weapons. Kill." The answers were swift and emotionless.

"And if you didn't?" Akane forced her voice to remain professional and secure. She knew the answers to these questions already from Hito's careful documentations, but it was imperative to Ranma's mental progress that he talks about those experiences.

Ranma's grip on Akane's hand tightened. She quickly took a peek at his face. The man wore an unfamiliar look of terror and his complexion had visibly paled. His whole body had gone rigid and he was trying to draw himself closer physically as if trying to make himself smaller. 'Good luck,' Akane found herself thinking absently. 'You're six feet tall.' Placing her other hand on Ranma's arm, she abandoned all thoughts of pursuing that topic.

"Never mind. Forget Hito. Tell me about what you remember before you met him," Akane commanded.

She gave a mental sigh as Ranma spoke succinctly of a fat, bald man teaching him to punch and kick. His death grip hadn't loosened, but his muscles definitely relaxed. All of this would be much easier if she could put him under complete hypnosis, but when she tried that in their first few sessions, Ranma had gone crazy and nearly tried to kill her. The only useful information she had gotten from that little experiment was that Ranma was deathly afraid of Hito, as he had used hypnosis on Ranma many times before.

* * *

Shampoo locked her front door behind her as she reached home. She lived in a small, cozy three-bedroom ranch in a housing district in Tokyo. This was the place that was really, truly her own. Sure, she had the Nekohanten before, but it was really Cologne's restaurant, even though the old Amazon matriarch had never set foot in the building. A wave of shame and pain passed over the young woman, but she firmly squashed it down. There was no use reminiscing about the past. It was over and done with. She was twenty-four now and it has been eight years since she was exiled. Her lips thinned slightly. 

'But it wasn't my fault,' the Chinese girl whined to herself, knowing its uselessness. 'Or Ryoga's, for that matter- he just got lost _way_ too easily.'

Truth was Ryoga Hibiki had little objections to marrying Shampoo. The problem was that Shampoo would lose him within a day of tracking him down, and he would end up in Europe or Africa or some other continent the next time she would hear from him. And it wasn't really his fault that he had accidentally beaten her in combat either. In the two year time limit to bring him back, the young teen had been exhausted. And who could blame her? She had traveled the world three and a half times by the time her deadline rolled around.

Shampoo opened her refrigerator and took out the bubble tea she had made last night, took a sip, and trekked to her room. Tonight is the start of her new assignment and she would need her sleep. Setting her alarm for 9:30, the woman changed into an oversized T-shirt of the Tokyo Tower and crawled into bed. Falling asleep almost instantly, she didn't notice the presence of another human in her house.

Maybe it was best though. This was one man she didn't want to think about as her dreams plagued her of memories of her trial.

When he was sure she was asleep, the man silently slid out of her closet. Staring at her in her slightly disturbed slumber, the man strode to her bedside and knelt on the floor. Shampoo. He hadn't seen her in three years. And in those three years, she had seemed to only grow more beautiful. Her face had long lost all its baby fat and her body... Well, the light nose bleed he felt coming spoke for itself. Unable to control himself any longer, the man leaned and kissed her lightly on the lips.

Honeyed tea...

Shampoo stirred and the man froze. They had told him that her combat skills had weakened, but she was still a great warrior. Pushing away his hair, he frowned slightly.

'But she hadn't sensed my presence,' he thought uncomfortable. 'I was hiding my chi, true, but the Shampoo I know had always been able to detect it.'

He watched as Shampoo turned in her sleep so that she was facing him. Her long, beautiful hair was sprawled around her like a crown. He couldn't remember the last time he had touched it. Well, not exactly touched. It was probably when she swung her head and hit him in the face with her hair.

Well, now was his chance. Gingerly, the man brushed her silky locks out of her face with his rough, callused hands that felt unworthy of her hair. Who cares if she's exiled? As he sat and played with her hair, the not so mysterious stranger almost missed the slight upwards curve of his beauty queen's rosy lips in her sleep.

"Mousse," she breathed so quiet he almost didn't hear her.

He could have sworn his heard stopped for a full second.

* * *

Ukyo Kounji changed out of her normal kitchen garb after the shower into a silk blouse and black pinstripe pants. The businesswoman side of her was both aching for lost costumers on a Monday night and exited for the prospect of the deal. Her small business had grown over the years and she needed a bigger place. There was a spot in Tokyo that she had her eye on, but she was several thousand yen short. While she knew she could have just taken out a loan from the bank, she knew that more money should be put into hiring new staff, fixing up the place, and advertising. The only solution: sell her current building. 

And a buyer was interested. This was perfect. Ukyo checked the clock. Five till seven. She ran to the bathroom and quickly grabbed a tube of rouge lipstick and dabbed some on her lips. The woman slowed down a bit applying mascara, but poked herself in the eye anyway.

Three minutes. Opening a drawer, she took out a pair of pearl studs and matching necklace. She may be a cross-dresser, but so was Konatsu. Glancing in the mirror, she smiled at her reflection. Oops, the bow. One minute. Taking off the ribbon, she quickly pulled her brush through it and tried to put it into a bun. Ugh. Why had she told Konatsu to take the day off?

The bell on her door rang at exactly 7:00PM and Ukyo rushed downstairs. Her hair was a little sloppy, but it would do. All she needed to do was sell the building, not herself. At the last few steps, she slowed down and tried to return her breathing back to normal. A pudgy middle-aged man stood at the entrance in a gray suit and smiled at her. She straightened her shirt and extended her hand.

"Hi, I'm Ukyo Kounji," she said amiably. "How are you this evening?"

The man took her hand and shook it firmly, "My, what a beautiful girl. I am Shiro Atawa and I am great."

There was an edge to his voice that Ukyo didn't like, but passed it off. Unluckily, she also missed the man glance down at her body as she turned to lead him through a tour of the restaurant. If she weren't so nervous, maybe she would have caught that he never seemed to pay as close of attention to the building as the girl herself. Or maybe the way he lingered upstairs in the two apartments could have caught her eye. But no. Ukyo was just a friendly okonmiyaki chef. That was all, really.

She was surprised when he didn't push too much on the price. They settled below Ukyo's starting price, but far above what she had actually expected to sell the place for.

She was even more surprised, when they shook on the deal, that he had spun her around in his arms and placed a cool, metal blade on her throat.

"A single word out of you and I'll slit your throat."

Ukyo gulped as fear gripped her. Why did she deny her father's martial arts lessons?

The man, she couldn't even think of his name now, moved her upstairs to her bedroom and tied her hands and feet to the four bedposts. Ukyo was normally considered tall at 5'4, but her frame was still too short to stretch all the way. Lucky for her, her captor allowed the rough rope a few inches of space between her limbs and the posts, instead of, you know, stretching her to death. He then stuffed a piece of cloth into her mouth painfully.

This time, the culinary genius didn't miss the odd glint in his eyes as he looked her over. "You know, I wasn't assigned to do anything more with you, but I never imagined you to be so beautiful."

He chuckled and sat down on the bed relishing her look of fright. Taking off his jacket, he unzipped his pants and pulled them off. "I was never one to let an opportunity pass me by," he murmured, spreading his body over her.

Ukyo tried to scream as the man ran his hands under her shirt and all but ripped apart her pants, but the cloth muffled the sound. The man laughed as he quickly pulled off his boxers too.

"Don't worry. You're not the one I'm waiting for."

Tears fell down the beautiful girls' face as he unbuttoned her blouse and snapped her bra.

* * *

Akane paid the cab driver as he pulled to a stop. She and Ranma climbed out and watched the yellow car speed off into the distance. She sighed. Her wallet was losing weight in her precious Louis Vuitton purse. Glancing down the brown beauty, she sighed again. _Looks like I won't be able to indulge this year_. Usually managing her finances on a slight budget, Akane had enough money to buy herself 'something nice' every year on her birthday. But ever since Ranma had moved in with her, her normally comfortable financial lifestyle had screeched to a halt. All of a sudden, the water and electricity bills skyrocketed and she found that she was paying more than double for groceries. Being taller and more muscular than her, Ranma obviously ate more, a lot more. Within a month of having to pay for Ranma's share of everything and Akane was more than ready to kick him out.

But she couldn't. She knew she couldn't. Instead, she had gone to her boss to ask for a pay raise.

"_Miss Tendo," Yuri Kenchi said, "you know I can't give you a raise... You volunteered your place for Mr. Saotome. It's your responsibility."_

_Akane scowled, "But if I hadn't, he would most definitely be in jail right now. If our own psych boarding couldn't handle his bursts of violence, what makes you think an apartment somewhere else will? And where would he get the money for it?"_

"_Well..." Kenchi blushed a little._

_The wheels in Akane's mind turned and her voice turned dangerously low, "You were going to provide that, weren't you?"_

"_How's this, Miss Tendo," Kenchi cleared his throat, "you give us a copy of your bills and an estimate of what part of them are of Mr. Saotome. We'll pay for 50 percent."_

_Akane's eyes narrowed; she didn't live with Nabiki for seventeen years of her live for nothing, "I want 80 percent."_

"_Sixty-five percent, final offer."_

"_Seventy percent. You have yourself a deal, Mr. Kenchi."_

_Kenchi sighed and shook Akane's outstretched hand, ignoring the slight hint of a very Nabiki-like smirk on her lips._

Before she even entered the old restaurant, Akane knew that something was wrong. Even on Monday evenings, Ucchan's should have more business. One Monday a month at 8:30, Akane would visit Ukyo. She knew how loved Ucchan's was. Once indoors though, all her senses screamed at her to run. It was weird, really, since nobody was there. The bell on the door rang oddly loudly as Ranma entered and closed the door behind him. Akane squashed the part of her wanting to call out so that her friend would rush out and tell her that the place was finally sold or something of the nicer sort.

"Anything here seem ...odd, to you?" she whispered to Ranma.

He put a finger to his lips and Akane saw his ears twitch. Though she didn't hear anything, Ranma pointed at the stairs. Akane headed the direction gestured, but Ranma gripped her arm firmly and shook his head.

Akane paused, "Do you think it's dangerous? Is Ukyo going to be all right?"

Ranma nodded, then shook his head.

"Then we have to help her! Let's go," Akane kept her voice low, but irritation could clearly be heard.

He kept his grip on her arm and shook his head again.

"Ranma, if that were your mother, would have leave her?"

He gave her a blank look and Akane sighed. She kept on forgetting that Ranma had pretty much had all sense of righteously and chivalry beaten out of him.

"Then you can go," she whispered resolutely. "But Ukyo is my friend and I'm going to help her. If it were you up there, I wouldn't think twice about going after you either."

As she tried to shake off Ranma's hand, he shoved her behind him and went up the stairs. Akane caught a glimpse of a very annoyed expression on his face, but ignored it and followed, trying to keep her footsteps silent like Ranma's. It was useless though. The bell had announced their presence loud and clear. Her heart was pounding out of nervousness and fear. Closing her eyes, she evened her breathing and cleared her mind like Shampoo had taught her. Ranma came to a sudden stop in front of Ukyo's closed door and Akane almost bumped into him.

"Well?" she mouthed to him.

Ranma scowled at her, motioned for her to stay, and ran the door. Akane stayed out of sight, but she heard the unmistakable click of a gun. 'That can't be good...'

"Ah, Ranma Saotome. Nice of you to finally arrive," a man's voice drawled. "I'm assuming Miss Tendo is nearby? Come on out, Akane-chan. I have a gun pointed at him."

Cursing under her breath, the woman stepped through the door and gasped. Her brain had passed right by the man pointing the gun her direction point blank and had directly processed the image on the bed. There Ukyo was, passed out and tied to the bed posts. Her upper body was naked and she had her pants crudely twisted about her ankles. Her wrists were bloody from struggling on the ropes and there was more blood on the bed sheets. 'No...'

"Oh her," the man smiled, "she was a _pleasure_."

In a rage, Akane yelled and kicked, _hard_, at the man's solar plexus. Perhaps because he never expected this kind of stupidity from her, he didn't manage to block in time, stumbled, and the gun went off. Luckily, both Ranma and Akane had moved from their original positions and avoided the fatal shot, though the bullet grazed Akane's left arm. The woman barely noted the pain. Before the man had a chance to regain his breath and balance, Ranma wrenched the gun away and shoved it in Akane's left hand. She winced. Seeing the blood, the man's gray-blue eyes burned a crystal blue. Before Akane's brain even registered that Ranma had moved, he had the man in his hands, strangling him mercilessly.

For a second, a brief second, Akane considered not intervening. He deserved it for Ukyo.

"Ranma, NO!" she then yelled, almost automatically.

Then she knew. She couldn't let Ranma kill this rapist. Ranma was human. For the past thirty months, Akane had worked hard, too hard in Shampoo's opinion, to help Ranma regain his sense of guilt and remorse. She couldn't let him kill again. Though noting the cold, seemingly unstoppable persona, Akane wrapped her small arms around Ranma from behind.

"Please Ranma, don't do it."

She felt his muscles harden, then relax. Using the pause, she pushed between him and the now very purple and unconscious man and looked Ranma in the eye. She found a mass of rough indifference, a picture void of any emotion that in all honesty, scared the living daylights out of her. How much longer would it have taken Ranma to take his life? Akane shuddered, but kept her eyes on his.

Ranma blinked. His facial muscles relaxed a little, and Akane was more than relieved to find a hint of recognition in his eyes. He had reverted back to the weapon Ranma, capable of leveling buildings with his bare hands. He had forgotten her. In those few minutes, everything she had worked for had completely gone to waste. Nothing had sunk in. And did she mention that he had forgotten her? It stung...

"It's Akane," she said weakly, "please stop."

Ranma withdrew his hands and the man crumpled centimeters behind Akane. The familiar relaxed look washed over Ranma and she let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. Maybe the past two and a half years weren't a _total _waste.

"Thank you."

He only shrugged. Now Ukyo...

* * *

Shampoo felt like a foolish idiot even after all these years. Dressed in a comfortable ninja outfit to blend in with the night, her breasts were bound and her luscious hair braided and stuffed into the back of that horrible mask. Apparently, her advisor felt that the Chinese girl left too memorable an impression and was too easy to trace. She scowled. It was just like men, especially _foreign_ men, to try to take away her two Amazon prides: her hair and her body. But whatever. She had her job to take care of.

Perched atop a tree, the inside of Shampoo's binoculars told her that it was 9:55. Five more minutes until the men come. Her team of a few other high-class agents was absence from view, though she knew they were all present. Roll call had taken place only seconds earlier via the devices behind each of their ears. None knew the position of another to avoid complications should someone be discovered. Now all they had to do was wait.

Her thoughts drifted back to the peculiar sight she was greeted with when she awoke five minutes before her alarm went off, as she knew she would. Sprawled clumsily across the floor centimeters away from her bed was a dozing Chinese man, an oddly familiar one. She had known it was Mousse before she saw his face.

Shampoo frowned and tried to focus on her task, but it proved difficult. Not having seen him for three years and not talked to him for six since graduating from high school and closing Nekohanten, Shampoo was surprised with the intensity in which she missed her lovesick friend. Though she hadn't given him a second glace _ever_, the woman found herself admiring the handsome man in her room. Not only did he enter unnoticed, he had considerably changed. Gone were the thick glasses, probably replaced with contacts. His face was tanned and, for lack of a better word, more mature. His hair was still long, but sleekly pulled back into a ponytail with a leather cloth. Though she couldn't be sure, Mousse looked taller than her and definitely better built than before.

It was with mixed emotions in which she had left him asleep on the floor.

Something in the shadows moved. Two men in suits emerged. One was holding a briefcase and the other one was undoubtedly heavily armed. Three different voices immediately whispered the words "targeted sighed" into her ear.

"Wait for the command," Shampoo ordered curtly.

This was the important one. The two men belonged to a highly secretive drug organization. They needed to be taken in alive for proof and questioning. They were obviously out on a deal tonight, but Shampoo had no orders to bring in the customer. Whoever it was, he was highly powerful to be making the deal in person. Credit should be given for even knowing about them. These guys were so secretive they had no name. Others, however, have dubbed them simply the Dealers.

10:04:23. Still only two men in sight. The customer was late. Shampoo frowned. It was not wise to keep the Dealers waiting. The two men were close and whispered to each other in the long deserted park, but didn't move. A part of Shampoo wanted to just pounce on them and turn them in, but her cat-like curiosity kept her frozen in place. Who was the customer?

Another minute and a half passed. A breeze blew by and the leaves rustled. Shampoo's senses screamed alarm, and an internal battle raged. Everything Yamamoto Corp had ever taught her was to stick with the plan. Everything the Amazons have ever taught her was to follow her instinct.

"This is ridiculous," one of the men muttered and dialed a number on his cell phone.

"Take cover!" Shampoo hissed to her teammates.

Before the words completely left her lips, two distinct gunshots rang out in the air. The two men lay dead. Shampoo growled.

"Stay put," she ordered.

Slowly, almost invisibly, another figure emerged from the bushes, picked up the phone, and declared, "I am Kaneida Mimazumi. Thank you for the free crack."

Shampoo absent mindedly wondered why anybody would want a drug named for that part of the body before the man's words hit her like a speeding fire-breathing bullet train full of explosives.

_Mimazumi? As in Mimazumi _Hito?

Oh no. Akane would not be pleased.

* * *

Teresa3: Your English is great for being a second language. I moved to the States when I was 7 and it took me like 4 years to get a hold of it. Anyway, I'm okay with you writing your reviews and such in Spanish. It'll help me with my Spanish grade. :sigh: School is such a hassle. But I am _so_ flattered that you want to translate my stories! Feel free to do it anytime.

Lisiegirl: Hey, you're not allowed to use my hit counter against me. Bah!

Ace: Where are you going on vacation? I wish I could go on vacation. I think you've got something there with the Ukyo theory though it may not be exactly what you're thinking. Remember, Akane waited tables for her for a while.

Vaniah: Thanks for the offer. It's actually because I saw that you were a psych major that I put up that note. --; No, it's not a violence ravaged future, or at least not that far into it. It's sort of the beginning of the breakdown of civilization though, which is sort of why Ranma wasn't put in jail for killing people. oO

Princess Kohana: Of course it's going to be Ranma and Akane! They're the ultimate power couple. Too much power, sometimes, but hey, you can't get everything.

Seras246: Holy crap... I wish I were that smart.

Malice001: Yep! It's a reasonable attachment once you find out more about his and their past though.

Sweetest Taboo: Hey I love Shampoo. She and Akane are my favorite female characters by far. I don't quite like Ukyo as much, but she's a nice girl. And have fun with Psychology. I'm going to take AP Psych senior year. :freaks out:

Lili: Akane doesn't win a fight against Shampoo. If you're talking about when she threw Shampoo, she didn't win. First off, Shampoo didn't even have to perform a "fall" and second, she landed perfectly on her feet. Sorry if I didn't make that clear.

Lerris: I hope you like this chapter better, because I do have to agree that the last two were slow and uneventful.

Brittaney AKA BAD: Ranma doesn't really like talking. Sorry.

Angela Jewell: I was so exited to get a review from you! I _love_ your stories and I'm glad you like mine.

Eric Oh: I hope this explains it. I wasn't originally going to put anything in here because it was a minor detail, but since you're the second person who's asked...

**A/N**: So here it is! Sorry I lied and didn't tell you why Akane is a shrink. That'll come next chapter. I really meant to, but that was too much information to fit into one chapter. So finally some excitement, huh? How do you like it? Be sure to review! They really do motivate me.


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